Field of Honor
by Geimhreadh
Summary: After one of my visits to the graves I've adopted at the Am. War Cemetery  Netherlands  the idea for this story kept haunting me; maybe I shouldn't have watched IB that morning!


Lt. Aldo Raine stared at the white, marble stairs in front of him, and sighed. He had come a long way, but now he stood there, his heart felt heavy, and he wasn't sure if he could actually do this. Aldo the Apache….feeling everything the opposite of cocky. What a joke. He took his eyes of the stairs, noticing the inscription on the wall to his right._ "Honor is theirs who knew the path of honor."_ His eyes wondered to the left, where they found another inscription, _"Each for his own memorial earned praise that will never die and with it the grandest of all sepulchres, not that in which his mortal bones are laid but a home in the minds of men."_ "That sure is right," he mumbled under his breath, "you'll always have a home in mine."

He had been standing there for quit some time, but no one seemed to notice, or care; people just walked past him, up and down the stairs, occupied with their own thoughts and grieves. The occasional sympathetic look told him they probably understood his reluctance to go up those damn, white stairs, and maybe some of them even felt the same pain.

Letting out another deep sigh, he put his foot on the first step. Time to go. His legs felt like lead, his stomach almost turned….but when he reached the top of the stairs those feelings vanished instantly. He could hardly catch his breath as he tried to take in what he saw in front of him. White, marble crosses, row after row, as far as he could see. It exceeded his already high anticipations, especially since, between all those crosses, he could see an occasional Star of David as well. Honour in it's purest form.

Slowly he moved forward, seeking his way between the numerous crosses. His hands gently touched the white marble, his eyes read the inscriptions on the stones he passed. _James H. Wooters TEC 4 261 INF 65 DIV. Oregon April 7 1945…Walter C. Wetzel PFC 13 INF 8 Div. Michigan. April 3 1945…Thomas J. Fallin TEC 5 406 INF 102 DIV. Texas. Feb 28 1945…Here rests in honored glory a comrade in arms known but to God…_ It just went on and on. _Lewis R. Soffer CAPT 406 FA GP N.Y. Apr 16 1945 _Raine gently touched the letters on the Star of David in front of him. "Wonderful carving work," he mused to himself.

"Lt. Raine?" Raine, alarmed by the sudden sound of his rank and name, turned around, his hand instinctively shooting towards his belt. "Easy there," the man standing in front of him laughingly said, "didn't mean to startle you." "That's okay," Raine smiled back, "no knife there anyway. Good to see you, Utivich." They shook hands. "Same here Lt." "Don't mind me asking, but, how did you end up here Private?" "Faith," Utivich grinned mischievously, Raine just gave him a look. "Lt. Owens told me where you were going, he…well, he figured you might wanted some company." "Yes, and…." "And you were too stubborn to ask." Raine smiled. Lt. Marc Owens had been a long time war buddy, who he had known since the beginning of the war. Marc knew him inside out, sometimes knowing things about Raine before Raine himself managed to figure them out, never failing to be right. And he knew Marc was right about this one as well.

"Shall we go?" Raine gave Utivich a surprised look, "you know….?" "Yes," Utivich interrupted, "I've asked at the office out front. We have to go this way." Raine followed the young man as he made his way along the rows of crosses and stars, all the way to the other side of the cemetery. A mild breeze made this sunny day a bit more bearable, and he wondered how something as simple as sunlight could brighten even the darkest mood.

"We're here," Utivich suddenly whispered, stopping in front of a line of seven Stars of David Raine hadn't noticed up till now. Raine looked at the stones in front of him and closed his eyes. Not yet. Breathing heavily he stood there for a while, frantically tying to gather his thoughts. Opening his eyes would make this real, more real than he wanted it to be. Opening his eyes would mean he had to face up to a reality he knew damn well existed, but he'd tucked away, deep down in the corners of his mind. Opening his eyes would mean he had to face up and confront the graves of the friends that were killed….because of an order he gave them. But keeping his eyes closed wouldn't make this go away either. So he swallowed….and opened his eyes.

_Donny Donowitz SGT __Massachusetts. June 23 1944_

_Omar Ulmer PFC Delaware__. June 23 1944_

_Gerold Hirschberg PFC __Connecticut__. June 20 1944_

_Andy Kagan __PFC __Illinois_. _June 20 1944_

_Michael Zimmerman PFC Maine__. June 20 1944_

_Simon Sakowitz PFC Massachusetts. June 12 1944_

"Such bravery," Raine mused to himself, remembering the words he had rehearsed over and over in his head, "it was an honour to have you under my command. You gave your lives, without hesitation, and I admire you for that. I just hope you can forgive me….for it was me who lead you to your death. I should be lying there as well. Yes, it would be an honour to lie there next to you." He swallowed ferociously. In the heat of the moment there had been no doubt, no questioning a decision, no limits. But now, as the war had been fought and life was returning to normal [as far as normal went] he started reliving those moments and the decisions he'd made, and somewhere deep inside, alongside pride and content, was that feeling of guilt. Guilt for surviving, while his friends had died. Everyone of his regiment but him and Utivich.

He looked to his left, where Utivich stood in silence, arms alongside his body, his fingers moving nervously back and forth. "What is it, son?" Raine asked. "Can I ask you something, Lt?" "Of course." "How did they get here? I mean, they were killed in France….why were they brought here?" Raine looked back at the graves, thinking about what to answer. "It was you, wasn't it Lt.? You brought them here…..but how?" Raine smiled. The boy was smarter than he'd thought. "Guilty as charged. Figured I owed them that much. Reckoned the General owed us for what we managed to pull off, and you know how persuasive I can be. Struck a deal….we'd help liberate Paris, he'd make sure the boys came back. And he did just that, but after we came back from Paris, I heard about this cemetery coming into use, and well, I just wanted them to be buried on a Field of Honour." Utivich thought about that for a moment. "But that is huge….how did you pull that off?" "Just think of it as a favour." Utivich seemed content with that answer, and remained silent…

….for just a moment. Hesitant, he started again. "Lt…..what do you think happened to Stiglitz and Wicki? And Hicox?" Raine was struck by the young man's concern, especially since he knew he had actually been a bit afraid of Stiglitz. Then again, who hadn't been? "Since I'm in a talking mood….they brought them back as well. Hicox was brought back to England, on his family's request. Stiglitz and Wicki couldn't be buried here since it's an American War cemetery, no exceptions, believe me, I've tried." Utivich let out a soft sigh. "But," Raine hastily continued, "got them sorted as well." Utivich looked up, eyes filled with anticipation. "Germany was a no, and America wasn't an option either, so I brought them here as well. They're close by, under a mile from here, buried in the town cemetery." "They allowed that?" Utivich sounded genuinely surprised. "Again, let's just call it a favour. They'll take good care of them, even got them a proper stone. Someday people will know what they did and how brave they were…..the vicar assured me of that."

They stood in silence, side by side, both occupied by their own thoughts.

Nearly fifteen slow minutes crept by before Lt. Raine saluted his friends, immediately followed by PFC Utivich. "Till we meet again, friends," Utivich muttered; Raine just simply nodded, quickly, just before he turned around to leave. "Come on, son, we'll go see Stiglitz and Wicki." Together they headed for the white stairs, admiring the view displayed in front of them. "It's really beautiful here," Utivich noted, "nice view on the valley." "True," Raine simply answered, he had already spoken more today than he'd normally do in a week. He didn't plan to overdo it.

On their way down to the entrance gate they passed an immense wall. Raine looked at the names engraved in the marble plates decorating it….there were so many. Utivich seemed to have the same thought. "So many still missing….unbelievable." He walked away from Raine to have a closer look at the names, feeling the marble with his fingers. "Hey….Lt….can I ask you something?" Raine was a bit reluctant to break his intention not to overdo on talking but couldn't restrain his curiosity. "Last question, son." Utivich blushed. "Just wondering…..these guys are missing right? They don't know where they are? Then how do they know the dates they've died?" "Well Utivich, that's because they know when or where their planes went down or their regiment was being attacked; just never found their bodies." Utivich looked puzzled. "So, when they've found their bodies, they are buried and get a stone. When they haven't found their bodies, they are put on the Wall of The Missing?" "That is a second, last question, but yes, that's about it." Raine grinned, he had a good idea of where this was going. "But sir, Donny and Omar were….there were no….." "I know," Raine interrupted, "but don't you be telling anyone else about that…."


End file.
